“It’s a damned shame!” cried Malone. “The way this thing has been treated is a disgrace to journalism. It’s not Britain alone. America is worse. We seem to have the lowest, most soulless folk that ever lived on the Press—good-hearted fellows too, but material to a man. And these are the leaders of the people! It’s awful!”
McArdle put a fatherly hand upon the young man’s shoulder.
“Weel, weel, lad, we take the world as we find it. We didn’t make it and we’re no reesponsible. Give it time! Give it time! We’re a’ in such a hurry. Gang hame, now, think it over, remember your career, that young leddy of yours, and then come back and eat the old pie that all of us have to eat if we are to keep our places in the world.”
CHAPTER XVI
IN WHICH CHALLENGER HAS THE EXPERIENCE OF HIS LIFETIME
So now the nets were set and the pit was dug and the hunters were all ready for the great quarry, but the question was whether the creature would allow himself to be driven in the right direction. Had Challenger been told that the meeting was really held in the hope of putting convincing evidence before him as to the truth of spirit intercourse with the aim of his eventual conversion, it would have roused mingled anger and derision in his breast. But the clever Malone, aided and abetted by Enid, still put forward the idea that his presence would be a protection against fraud, and that he would be able to point out to them how and why they had been deceived. With this thought in his mind, Challenger gave a contemptuous and condescending consent to the proposal that he should grace with his presence a proceeding which was, in his opinion, more fitted to the stone cabin of a neolithic savage than to the serious attention of one who represented the accumulated culture and wisdom of the human race.
Enid accompanied her father, and he also brought with him a curious companion who was strange both to Malone and to the rest of the company. This was a large, raw-boned Scottish youth, with a freckled face, a huge figure, and a taciturnity which nothing could penetrate. No question could discover where his interests in psychic research might lie, and the only positive thing obtained from him was that his name was Nicholl. Malone and Mailey went together to the rendezvous at Holland Park, where they found awaiting them Delicia Freeman, the Rev. Charles Mason, Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvy of the College, Mr. Bolsover of Hammersmith, and Lord Roxton, who had become assiduous in his psychic studies, and was rapidly progressing in knowledge. There were nine in all, a mixed, inharmonious assembly, from which no experienced investigator could expect great results. On entering the séance room Linden was found seated in the arm-chair, his wife beside him, and was introduced collectively to the company, most of whom were already his friends. Challenger took up the matter at once with the air of a man who will stand no nonsense.
“Is this the medium?” he asked, eyeing Linden with much disfavour.
“Yes.”
“Has he been searched?”
“Not yet.”
“Who will search him?”
“Two men of the company have been selected.”
Challenger sniffed his suspicions.
“Which men?” he asked.
“It is suggested that you and your friend, Mr. Nicholl shall do so. There is a bedroom next door.”
Poor Linden was marched off between them in a manner which reminded him unpleasantly of his prison experiences. He had been nervous before, but this ordeal and the overpowering presence of Challenger made him still more. He shook his head mournfully at Mailey when he reappeared.
“I doubt we will get nothing to-day. Maybe it would be wise to postpone the sitting,” said he.
Mailey came round and patted him on the shoulder, while Mrs. Linden took his hand.
“It’s all right, Tom,” said Mailey. “Remember that you have a bodyguard of friends round you who won’t see you ill-used.” Then Mailey spoke to Challenger in a sterner way than was his wont. “I beg you to remember, sir, that a medium is as delicate an instrument as any to be found in your laboratories. Do not abuse it. I presume that you found nothing compromising upon his person?”
“No, sir, I did not. And as a result he assures us that we will get nothing to-day.”
“He says so because your manner has disturbed him. You must treat him more gently.”
Challenger’s expression did not promise any amendment. His eyes fell upon Mrs. Linden.
“I understand that this person is the medium’s wife. She should also be searched.”
“That is a matter of course,” said the Scotsman Ogilvy. “My wife and your daughter will take her out. But I beg you, Professor Challenger, to be as harmonious as you can, and to remember that we are all as interested in the results as you are, so that the whole company will suffer if you should disturb the conditions.”
Mr. Bolsover, the grocer, rose with as much dignity as if he were presiding at his favourite temple.
“I move,” said he, “that Professor Challenger be searched.”
Challenger’s beard bristled with anger.
“Search me! What do you mean, sir?”
Bolsover was not to be intimidated.